Romantically Inclined
by Lady Whitehart
Summary: This is a collection of challenge fics that I have written for the Lj community Romancing the Wizard. All rated T or lower all het romances!
1. My StrengthThee: CygnusDruella Black

A/N: Once again I've decided to enter a challenge. For the Month of January, the Live Journal community, Romancing the Wizard, is hosting a challenge. This one is about various wizards in the Black family. Since one-shots tend to 'vanish' on this site, much like boat and airplanes in the Bermuda Triangle, I've decided to store all of my challenge fics in one file. Hopefully this will give more people the chance to read and enjoy them._ coughreviewcough_ Anyway... here we go!

**My Strength I Share with Thee**  
**Main wizard:** Cygnus Black (1929-1979)  
**Other Characters:** Druella (Rosier) Black  
**Rating:** G/PG  
**Word Count: **500  
**Summary:** Even an arranged marriage can provide a source of comfort and strength.

* * *

The Black Family tapestry was a record of joys and sorrows, and Cygnus Black had had his fair share of both over the years. He remembered the times the changes had affected his life 

_"Congratulations, may you find much happiness over the years," yet another well-wisher mumbled, shaking Cygnus's hand._

_Happiness in an arranged marriage? Cygnus turned to stare at the thin golden thread that joined his name to Druella Rosier's. His gaze met that of the near-stranger he had recently wed; she was equally uncomfortable._

_Later that night in the privacy of their bedroom, she confided in him. "I want to love you... to truly be your wife. Please, help me do that, Cygnus. I desire to please you."_

_Love was for the weak; he was not weak. Yet Druella's eyes, in fact her very being, spoke of a longing that she wished to have satisfied and to satisfy in return. He kissed her with a gentleness and passion that he never thought he could possess. Ignoring the crude advice of his friends, he exercised care when he claimed her.  
_

He had chosen to love her then, and as time passed, he was thankful that he had. Regardless of the unhappy circumstances that had bound their lives together, the two had become a source of comfort and strength for each other. Sometimes he was the stronger, and sometimes she was the stronger. They had overcome their sense of duty and had learned to care for one another deeply and passionately. They were rewarded with joy as, one by one, three daughters came into their lives and were added to the tapestry. Two years earlier, their eldest daughter, Bellatrix, had been married to Rodolphus Lestrange. Later this year, their middle daughter, Andromeda, was to wed young Lucuis Malfoy, a union that would join together the two purest and most powerful families in the wizarding world.

Now, instead of gazing with pride at a thin gold thread binding his daughter to Lucius, Cygnus stared at the ugly burn mark on the tapestry that only a moment before had been Andromeda's name. The spot would forever stand as a testament of their failure to raise the girl properly. He held his sobbing wife as she cried over and over, "How could she do this to us? How could she?"

After all they had been through, he knew he had strength enough to sustain them both through this latest trial. Setting aside his anger and disgust at Andromeda and the dishonor she had brought upon them, he said more firmly than he thought was possible, "Forget that blood-traitor tramp and focus on Narcissa."

"They could have managed some happiness," Druella whispered, weeping on his shoulder. "We did."

Cygnus reminded himself that he had chosen to find that happiness-- something he sensed that young Malfoy would not have the inclination to do.

"Perhaps," he replied as he kissed her brow, finishing to himself. _But not everyone can be as fortunate as we have been._


	2. The Best Laid Plans: Alphard BlackOFC

A/N: Here is my second entry for the Romancing the Wizard Challenge, Pride and Prejudice. This 500-word fic features Alphard Black, who was disowned for giving gold to young Sirius, and Honora Horton, an original character. It was written for prompt #17 Alphard Black - Flourish & Blott's. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

** The Best Laid Plans**

One August afternoon, sixteen-year-old Alphard Black watched Honora Horton from behind a stack of books in Flourish & Blotts. When he had seen her in Diagon Alley, Alphard had convinced his mother to allow him to purchase his schoolbooks on his own. His mind forming a plan that would finally give him the opportunity to do the one thing he had been unable to do in the last three years: speak to her.

"Just be calm, walk over to her, and say hello. That's all there is to it; it's not like it's alchemy or anything," he muttered to himself.

Honora flicked her hair over her shoulder. Alphard leaned around the stack of tomes to get a better look. She was browsing among the Transfiguration books. Was she taking Transfiguration as well? Common classes! That would make things so much easier; he could walk right over, and just--

He suddenly lost his balance and fell flat on his face, taking the wobbly pile with him. There was a loud crash along with an avalanche of leather and paper that left the unfortunate young man on the floor, surrounded by a heap of Divination books. As he struggled to a sitting position, Alphard felt the color rising in his face. When he dared to look up, the eyes of every patron were focused on him. Honora was staring at him, her eyes round and surprised. He had wanted her to notice him but not like this!

"Are you hurt?" she asked, stepping carefully around the mess.

"I-I don't believe so," he stammered, his ever-changing voice cracking. He hastily started to stack the books on the nearest table.

"You there!" the shopkeeper called. "What is-- Oh, young Master Black, you're not hurt, are you? I'll call someone to clear this right up, young sir."

"Thank you, but no, I'll just stack these back up."

"I'll help you," Honora offered, a smile tugging at her lips. The pair silently stacked the books into a much more stable configuration. "Are you taking N.E.W.T. level Divination?"

"Not hardly," he said in a flustered tone. Then he grinned and tried to be witty. "Although, perhaps I should. Then maybe I would have seen this accident coming."

Honora failed to suppress a giggle. Alphard laughed along with her. The awkwardness was gone, and the two of them began chatting about the classes they planned to take in September. They both pick up the same book, and their fingers touched, sending a quivery feeling up Alphard's arm. Forcing himself not to do or say anything foolish, he asked, "Would you care to stop by the Leaky Cauldron for a butterbeer?"

"No thank you," Honora replied, but (noticing his crushed expression) she added with a smile, "I would much rather have an ice cream from Fortescue's."

Alphard stood up and extended his hand to her, pulling her to her feet. Honora continued to hold his hand as the pair exited the shop to enjoy the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

A/N: Seriously, how suave and debonair can someone be with a name like Alphard? I just had this vision of him being very Neville Longbottom-ish. Go ahead and giggle; we've all been there. 


	3. Love the One: M CornerR Vane

**_WINNER OF AN ENCHANTED QUILL AWARD_**

This is my entry to the Challenge Twelve: March Madness at Romancing the Wizard. The challenge was to write a 500-word ficlet based on a rare pair and a prompt that also incorporated spring and a spell. I chose Michael Corner/Romilda Vane with the prompt jealous rage. The following is rated K+ (PG) for mild language. Read and enjoy. Thanks to verity for giving it a final polish.

Summary: After her dreams of securing Harry Potter's affections are dashed, Romilda Vane goes on the warpath. Who can stop her? A missing HBP moment.

* * *

Love the One You're With

Romilda Vane burst out of the portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room in a jealous rage. She couldn't believe what she had just seen: Harry Potter had kissed Ginny Weasley in front of everyone in the Gryffindor common room! She stormed through the corridor. _I hate her. I hate her! I HATE HER!_

Vicious thoughts filled her mind as she stomped down to the main floor. When she rounded the corner, she collided with something solid and landed squarely on her backside.

"Are you all right?" Michael Corner asked as he helped her up.

"Yes," she mumbled, brushing the furious tears from her cheeks.

He stared at her, confused. "Then why are you crying? Gryffindor won the Cup, thanks to Gin--"

"Don't even mention her name!" Romilda threatened. "What I wouldn't give to zap that red-headed bitch with her stupid Bat Boogey Hex!"

She reached into her pocket, and Michael, thinking the angry girl wouldn't be so picky about her target, took a step back. To his immense relief, she pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. Romilda ranted about how she had been trying to get Harry to notice her for months, leaving out the part about the love potion. When she got to the part about him kissing Ginny in the common room, she leaned against the wall next to the painting of the three witches picnicking in a glorious spring meadow and burst into tears.

Michael had been watching her since Christmas, trying to work up the nerve to ask her out. Seizing the opportunity to express his interest, he said, "Well, that's Potter's loss."

Romilda stopped mid-sob. "What do you mean?"

"You're much prettier than Ginny," he began. She looked up at him suspiciously. "Sincerely! You also know what you want, and you go after it. I like your bold personality. You get a wicked glint in your eye when you talk about--"

"How would you know?"

He hesitated. "I-I've been watching you and—"

"How long have you been watching me?" Romilda demanded, trying to decided if she should be flattered or uneasy.

"Long enough to know someone would be lucky to have you for a girlfriend." He felt his face turn red. "I really like you, Romilda. I think you're clever and pretty and... Would you go out with me?"

She had been so caught up in trying to get Harry, she didn't even think of the possibility that any other boy would find her attractive. She looked him up and down. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his brown eyes shone with warmth. His shoulders were broad, and he also very good-looking. Who needed The Boy Who Lived when one could have The Good-looking Boy Who Noticed You?

"Are you serious?"

"Very," he assured her. "Unless you still fancy Potter."

"Not a bit," she said, smiling.

"Good." He reached out to take her hand, both of them looking forward to a long walk around the lake in the spring sunshine.


	4. Starting Over: G Goyle and E Midgeon

**Here is my second entry in Romancing the Wizards March Madness Challenge. This one features Gregory Goyle and Eloise Midgen, the prompt skin deep, and 500 words. This one didn't win an Enchanted Quill Award, but I think you'll enjoy it. Seriously, if I thought you would hate it, I would never have bothered to post it.  
****Summary: Now that his so-called friends have abandoned him, Gregory Goyle is left to find true friendship and possibly even true love. Takes place at the end of _Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince_.**

* * *

_**STARTING OVER**_

_You're stupid and worthless!_ Those had been Malfoy's parting words to Gregory Goyle. Now Malfoy was gone. On top of that, Blaise Zabini was avoiding him and Vincent. Zabini was comforting Pansy Parkinson since she couldn't drape herself over Malfoy anymore.

Gregory put the last few things in his trunk. Chances were that he wouldn't be able to come back to Hogwarts next year. He had trusted a Malfoy the same way his father had a generation earlier. He slammed the lid of his trunk closed. Malfoy had been right; he had been so stupid to believe in all of it.

Hours later on the train, Gregory lumbered up and down the nearly-empty train car. Vincent's parents had come to the school after Dumbledore's funeral to take him home, and Zabini had informed Gregory that he would rather not have his company during the trip home. This left the young man completely on his own for what might very well be his last trip on the Hogwarts Express. He shoved open the door of what he thought was an empty compartment.

"What do you want?" demanded a pimply-faced girl, who was sketching a picture of spring flowers.

"I thought it was empty."

"Wait. Aren't you friends with Draco Malfoy?"

He shook his head. "Not really."

"What do you mean 'not really'?"

"I mean, he's not really my friend— not anymore." He turned to leave the compartment.

"You may sit with me if you like." She indicated the vacant seat across from her. "By the way, I'm Eloise Midgen. And you're... Vincent Crabbe?"

"Gregory Goyle," he corrected. "Aren't you afraid to sit with a Slytherin after what happened at school?"

"If you don't count Draco Malfoy as your friend, you probably aren't dangerous," Eloise reasoned. "Now, what made you decide that you aren't really Malfoy's friend?"

"Uh..." Suddenly, every slight that he endured from Malfoy under the guise of friendship tumbled out of his mouth. Eloise sat, listening patiently, until he said, "I guess Malfoy was right; I'm just stupid and worthless after all."

"I don't think so. You're clever to figure it out." She sighed. "It's better than being pimply and ugly. Not to mention dense enough to think _Extracto Mendum_ was a real spell."

He looked at his traveling companion. Eloise was homely. She was short-ish and plump-ish. Her stringy, brown hair was parted severely down the center and hung limply on either side of her pale, pock-marked face. Unfortunately, her acne seemed to be her only distinguishing feature. Gregory decided that he liked her eyes; they were a warm, honest brown. She had been nice enough to not only let him share her compartment, but she had also listened to his problems. Maybe beauty was only skin deep. Perhaps he had finally found a real friend. If he was really fortunate, he could even have something more.

"You're not ugly," he said, offering his hand. "I would like to get to know you better."

Eloise smiled, accepting it.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Since we weren't given a name for the anti-acne spell Miss Midgen tried to use, I decided to give it a name. It comes from the Latin _extractum_, meaning "to remove" and _mendum_, meaning "blemish". 

For more information on the Live Journal community, Romancing the Wizard, click the link on my bio page.


	5. Always: Severus Snape and Lily Potter

A/N: This was my contribution to Romancing the Wizard's first Post-DH challenge. Challenge Fifteen: Deathly Hallows Missing Scenes gave members the chance the write romantic scenes that weren't in DH but would have been nice to see.

WARNING: The following should not be read without a box of tissues handy.

* * *

**Always**

Severus sat on a battered chair on the first floor of the Shrieking Shack. His head was buried in his hands. Soon his failure would be complete. Soon Lily's son would be dead. He slipped his hand into the pocket of his robes, pulling out the half of a wizarding photograph—this, a scrap of a letter with her signature, and his memories were all he had left of her. His long finger lovingly traced her hair as he stared at the laughing face of Lily Evans—he would _never_ think of her as Lily Potter. How many times had they shared laughter? What kind of a life could they have had if he had changed when she had wanted him to do so?

"I love you, Lily. Everything I've done has been for you," he whispered to the image. _But I don't know how to finish what I've started._

_I know you will find a way, Severus._ Lily continued to smile at him, but he wasn't heartened much.

Since he had been summoned from the battlefield, he had been filled with a feeling of foreboding; nothing good could possibly come from this sudden meeting with the Dark Lord. He needed to find Potter to deliver the last bit of information the brat needed to complete his task. Now he was stranded here instead of seeking out the boy, and he could feel that time was running out.

_I'm sorry, Lily_, he thought, staring down at the face he had loved since he was a skinny boy of nine.

There was no accusation in those beautiful eyes, just love, happiness, and encouragement. _Don't give up, Severus._

_He was with McGonagall. I know he was_, Severus thought forcefully. Staggering to his feet, he began to pace. He wanted her to know that he **had** tried. _The other teachers attacked me. There were too many of them, and I couldn't get to him. I was hoping to find him on the grounds, but he wasn't there._

_Please, don't stop trying. _ It sounded like Lily was about to cry. He hated the very thought of her crying. She should be at peace now, not worrying or crying over things of this world. He had taken over the worrying and the pain because he loved her, and it was partly his fault that she had died.

_I will, but it won't make a difference. _

A sensation like a hand stroking his check caused him to shiver. _Severus, that message makes all the difference. Harry must know those things or all is lost. _

_Don't you see? He's going to die whether I give him the message from Dumbledore or not. I cannot change that._

"Severus?" Lucius Malfoy's hoarse voice interrupted Severus's thoughts. "The Dark Lord wishes to speak with you."

He slipped the picture into the pocket of his robe before turning to Malfoy. Clearing his mind of his last thoughts, he held his head high and headed to face the Dark Lord. Hopefully he would not be kept long, and he could resume his search for Potter. He had to find Lily's son before it was too late.

He was consumed by a sudden desire to run. It was a cowardly impulse, and he had proven to Lily and to himself that he was not a coward. Memories of her and his love for her always made him strong. He needed to know that she was with him. Before he entered the room where the Dark Lord was waiting, he dared one last thought of her. _Lily, will you be with me?_

_I'm always with you when you need me._ Lily's voice was firm and warm. _But, Severus, please be careful. _

He stepped into the room. Nagini was floating beside her master in a protective bubble. His only hope was to get away as quickly as possible, for time had indeed run out.

* * *

As the snake struck, he could hear Lily's scream mingled with his own. He fell to the floor, futilely trying to staunch the flow of blood. 

_Lily, help me!_ he pleaded silently. As he felt the venom steal through his veins, he knew there wasn't any hope for his life to be saved; all he wanted was comfort in his last moments. Misery rose in his throat, mingling with blood, choking him. _I don't want to die alone._

_I'm here, Severus. I'm right here,_ whispered Lily's voice.

He could feel someone next to him. Through a haze of pain and confusion, he saw a young man with messy, black hair and glasses. _Lily_, he implored. _Don't let James hurt me. Not now. _

_Severus, it's Harry. Give him the memories._

He couldn't... He wouldn't give up his memories. _No_, he protested as he fought for another breath, _they're mine; they're all I have left.  
_

_Please, Severus, for my sake._ Lily's voice was pleading with him.

How could he deny her anything thing now? If it meant that he hadn't failed her, he could part with some of those memories. He addressed the disheveled person beside him. "Take... it... Take... it..."

One by one, the memories drained from his mind as the blood drained from his body. He was watching Lily from the bushes on the playground... He was telling her about the Dementors as they sat by the river... They were on the train to Hogwarts... Lily was angry at him for his friendship within his house... He called her a Mudblood by the lake after James and Sirius ganged up on him... She refused to forgive him... He was begging Dumbledore to protect her and her family... She was dead... The memories flowed at a dizzying pace until he reached the one that was most crucial to her son: that Harry had been raised to die.

He was so cold now. So cold and alone and frightened. _Lily?_

_You're going to be with me very soon, Severus. I promise._

But not even her comforting words could hold off the cold that was overpowering him. He had so much to atone for. What if he wasn't deemed good enough to go where she was now? _In case I'm not, I want to see you one last time. _

_Look at Harry_, Lily's voice urged. _See me in him._

Severus grabbed the front of the boy's robes and pulled him closer. "Look... at... me..."

His black eyes struggled to focus on the green ones. There she was. Those lovely, bright green eyes looked at him, not with contempt but with a sadness, pity.

_I love you so much, Lily._

When she answered him, her voice was like a delicate caress. _And I love you, Severus. _

_Always_? He had to know; he couldn't die without hearing that she loved him too.

_Yes, Severus, always._

Reassured, he released his fragile hold on this life and hoped that the next would finally bring him to Lily, would bring him peace.


	6. Begin Anew: KrumGranger older

**Written for Live Journal community Romancing the Wizard's ****Challenge Seventeen: Messages From The Heart**

**Wizard/Witch** Vicktor Krum/Hermione Granger (older)

**Rating/Warnings** G/PG Implied character death

**Word count** Exactly 750

**Summary:** Old flames never completely die out. The embers smolder quietly, waiting for love to breathe on them and give them new life.

_**Begin Anew**_

* * *

"Morning, Ms. Granger-Weasley." A secretary levitated a stack of mail onto the Head of Magical Law Enforcement's desk. 

They sorted the mail, pausing at the sight of a vivid red envelope. To Hermione's relief it was not a Howler, just a red envelope. A Valentine's card? This was unexpected. The last card she had received was...

_It can wait,_ she told herself, setting it aside. _There's work to be done. _

Later that afternoon, Hermione shoved back her gray hair, perched her reading glasses on her nose, and opened the envelope. Inside was a card that opened to present her with a delicate bouquet of pink tea roses and ferns. A note read:

_Dear Hermione,_

_I will be in London next week. It would please me greatly to see you again. If you are able to join me, I would enjoy your company for dinner on the fourteenth._

_Regards,_

_Viktor Krum _

Viktor Krum! She had last spoken to him during the thirtieth anniversary celebration of You-Know-Who's defeat. Goodness! She hadn't seen him in more than twenty-five years. Hermione remembered reading that his wife had died a little over a year ago-- a few months after Ron's passing. Seeing Victor again would be a welcome change from her tedious routine. She sent him an owl, accepting his invitation.

* * *

The evening of the fourteenth arrived, and Hermione debated taking a sip of De-aging Draught. Who was she trying to fool? She was no longer a girl of fifteen; she was a widow of seventy-three. She would be herself. 

Viktor was waiting for her at the establishment, looking very distinguished with his own gray hair. Strong hands covered hers as he pressed his lips to both of her cheeks. "It is vonderful to see you again, Her-mo-niny."

"Likewise, Viktor." Why did she suddenly feel every bit as giddy as she had at fifteen?

He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as they were lead to their table. Once seated, they took turns chronicling the intervening decades, both of them faltering when they spoke of their spouses-- gone but not forgotten.

"I am truly sorry for your loss," Viktor said.

"And I for yours. It must have been very hard on you."

"I loved her greatly." He nodded. "Tonight I vish not to speak of loss, but of friendship and new beginnings. I haf thought of you often over the years. I haf missed you."

She hadn't realized it, but she had missed him too. Viktor had been the first person to recognize her as a woman; he had made her feel beautiful and feminine and had treated her respectfully. She had been too young to have been genuinely in love then, but she could still remember the tingle on her lips after he had kissed her at the end of the evening.

In the background a waltz was playing, similar to the one which had opened the Yule Ball so long ago. Viktor smiled and rose to his feet, extending a hand to her. "Shall ve dance?"

When was the last time she had danced? Her grandson's wedding? Hermione smiled. "Oh, yes!"

He took her hand and waist, and they moved to the music. Silently they glided across the floor, the years falling away with each step. She looked up expecting to see the grouchy-faced young Quidditch star, but all she saw were gentle eyes filled with love and longing. There was a promise in those eyes that the years to come need not be spent alone, immersed in her work. She had an opportunity to continue to live... to continue to love... to begin anew...

He whispered in her ear, "I haf alvays loved you, Her-mo-niny. Part of my heart has remained yours. Do you think you could find it in _your_ heart to love me?"

"Ron..." she whispered, tears welling up, "your wife..."

"They vould haf wanted us to be happy."

In her heart she knew that to be true-- Ron would never have denied her happiness. Another chance to love and be loved was something she wanted to embrace. For the first time in ages, words failed her, and she merely nodded.

Vitor lifted her chin. His mouth was on hers, filling her with a feeling of joy and contentment that had been missing from her life for the last year. With that kiss, passion's spark returned a feeling of youthful excitement to those aged bodies, and for a moment, they felt deliciously young and vitally alive again.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **No, there aren't a bunch of spelling mistakes in there; I was just trying to duplicate Krum's Bulgarian accent. There is a bit of meaning behind the flowers, which can be found at the Pioneer Thinking website. 


	7. Spring Crushes CrabbeZeller

The following is one of my 500-word fics for Challenge Eighteen: March Madness Redux on Live Journal's Romancing the Wizard community. The challenge included the following guidelines: use of a rare pair, spring setting, and the idea of the prompt done in 500 words. Enjoy!

**Challenge Eighteen: March Madness Redux**  
**Title:** Spring Crushes... and Other Disasters  
**Author:** ladywhitehart  
**Wizard/Witch:** Vincent Crabbe/Rose Zeller  
**Rating/Warnings:** G/PG  
**Genre:** Romance/Humor  
**Word count:** Exactly 500  
**Prompt:** #23 Diagon Alley sidewalk sale  
**Summary:** In Diagon Alley, Vincent Crabbe meets the girl of his dreams, but nothing works out quite the way he wants it to.

* * *

Diagon Alley was bustling with shoppers intent on enjoying the spring sidewalk sale in spite of the war. Vincent Crabbe was among them, enjoying the fresh breezes and warm sunlight. A few weeks of freedom from school were just what he needed--no thinking, just fun.

"Rose! Hurry along, girl!" snapped a tense, middle-aged woman to the blond-haired girl tagging along behind her.

"Coming, Mum."

Vincent watched the pair as they poked about the sale tables outside the apothecary. The girl was vaguely familiar to him; likely she was a few years younger than him. She was pretty too: smallish, freckles, and a long braid that was tied at the end with a jaunty black and yellow bow. Yellow and black? Oh, she must be that Zeller girl from Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff or not, she still was a pure-blood. Weren't they only supposed to like pure-blood girls? He was sure they did, but he'd have to ask Malfoy to be sure. Now he just had to get her attention, so she could see how big and strong and impressive he was. Then he would ask her to go to with him on the next Hogsmeade outing.

He tried to think of incantation for the Notice Me Spell. _Uh... starts with 'I'... Inpendio? Intentio? Yeah, Intentio!_

Pulling his wand out of his pocket, Vincent pointed it at her and mumbled, _"Incendio!"_

Luckily, Rose picked that moment to knock over a jar of beetle eyes, because as she leaned forward to right it, she was narrowly missed by the spell, which caused the display of mook tails to burst into flames. People started screaming in surprise, including Rose.

Feeling certain if Rose suspected he was trying to catch her on fire, she probably wouldn't consider going to Hogsmeade with him. Vincent charged forward, pointing his wand at the blaze and shouting, _"Aquamarines!"_

A shower of light-blue gems spurted from his wand. They were very sparkly and nice but didn't do anything to the fire. He tried again. _"Aquavelva!"_

This time, a perfumed liquid hit the flames, making them flare and expand.

Confused, he squinted at the business-end of the wand to see if the tip was damaged. No, that wasn't it. The correct incantation popped into his head. _Aguamenti!_ A jet of water shot directly into his face, soaking him completely.

As he stood there, dripping wet and looking ridiculous, someone else put out the fire. Great, his first successful nonverbal spell, and it didn't help him one bit. Vincent thought about drying himself off with a charm, but decided against it. With his luck, he would end up a giant slug. His shoulders slumped dejectedly as he turned to shuffle off into the crowd.

"Are you all right?" asked a timid voice. It was Rose.

"Yeah," he grunted.

She smiled shyly. "Thanks for trying to help. T'was very, um... gallant of you."

"Welcome." He returned the smile. He would ask her about Hogsmeade some other time, when he didn't look so silly.

**Author's Notes:** Seriously, what can you expect from a poor kid who couldn't pronounce disillusion or diadem and then engulfed the Room of Requirement in Fiendfyre? Luckily for him, Rose is younger and would still be impressed by his efforts.

_Aquamarines!_ is pretty self-explanatory.  
_Aquavelva!_ (inspired by the aftershave) produces a stream of men's cologne. This caused a flare due to the alcohol content.  
_Intentio!_ is a Latin translation for 'attention,' which directs the target's attention to the caster.


	8. For Love or Money BlackTonks

**For Love or Money**  
_by Lady Whitehart_  
T (PG-13)

The following is my contribution to Romancing the Wizard's Challenge Twenty-One: Winter Holidays Past. Starring Ted Tonks and Andromeda Black with a brief appearance by Anne Boleyn. The word count is exactly 500 words and uses the prompt: Goblin-made suits of armour.

* * *

It was midnight the night before the Christmas holidays were to begin, when a silent figure slipped past a row of Goblin-made suits of armour on the fourth floor corridor. Pausing at the end of the row, Andromeda glanced over her shoulder before gently tapping the portrait of Anne Boleyn.

"Sneaking about at night, my Slytherin sister?" the portrait asked, raising a dark brow.

The dark-haired girl lifted her chin defiantly. "You'd have done the same."

With a rueful laugh, the portrait swung open, revealing a narrow passageway. "Don't lose your head over a man; it's not worth it."

_"Lumos!"_ Andromeda followed along until the passage suddenly widened into a small room. She ran to the room's occupant and threw her arms around him. "Ted!"

The Hufflepuff caught her in his arms, spinning her around and kissing her. "You made it!"

"I thought that little Snape boy would never close his book and go to bed."

For months they'd been meeting in secret, talking, kissing, and caressing until the wee hours of the morning. Having been raised to be so prim and proper, Andromeda found it all very exciting and liberating. Liberating enough that her spirit had rebelled against the news of an arranged marriage to Lucius Malfoy, even if she hadn't found the courage to argue. Obedience and a sense of family honor had been too deeply ingrained. She admired Lucius, but she didn't feel for him the way she felt for Ted.

"Still can't believe you're being forced to marry Lucius Malfoy," Ted mumbled bitterly into her hair.

"Lucius doesn't want to marry me any more than I want to marry him. He's been in love with Cissy since we were children," Andromeda replied, burrowing deeper into Ted's embrace. "I've no desire to be bound to someone who's in love with my sister. Lucius is the last Malfoy and must obey his father, no matter what. He's been threatened with disinheritance… We both have."

"We're adults now. We could elope," suggested Ted, his face glowing with excitement. "Go someplace they'd never find us."

"My family would have no respect for a Muggle marriage."

Andromeda had thought of a way to break the betrothal. She'd heard of the great-great-great-grandsomething who'd _had _to marry her Muggle devotee, but she wasn't positive that such a drastic step was warranted. Not that she hadn't considered following through with the necessary act each time she and Ted had found themselves entwined and breathless. It was something they both wanted, but not so soon… and not like this. Could living in reduced circumstances with someone she loved be worse than living in luxury with someone who loved another? Anne Boleyn's words came back to her. The ambitious queen had traded poverty and true love for infinite wealth and power, and the choice had cost her everything.

Not allowing herself time to deliberate the issue further, Andromeda slowly began opening the front of her robe. _I **need** to do this.... I **want **to do this...._

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Happily ignoring the Black Family Tree, I've decided to make Andromeda and Ted slightly older than but in the same year as Lucius Malfoy with Narcissa the year below them.

As for a portrait of Anne Bolelyn hanging in Hogwarts, one of the accusations against her was witchcraft. Anne, if history is to be believed, had ambition to spare and would have made a perfect Slytherin.

Many thanks to** seaislewitch** for her helpful suggestions.


End file.
